Welcome to Hell
by shimmer-light
Summary: Both Harry and Voldemort end up dying in the final battle, but it is far from over for the two of them. On no one to depend upon but each other, they begin a journey to conquer Hell and regain their powers. Eventual slash
1. Waking in Hell

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter belongs to one J.K. Rowling and sadly – that is not me.

**Summary**: Both Harry and Voldemort end up dying in the final battle, but it is far from over for the two of them. On no one to depend upon but each other, they begin a journey to conquer Hell and regain their powers. Eventual slash

**Warnings**: Although the rating right now may indeed be only T, it is highly probable it will reach M in the further chapters, thus the M rating. And yes, it is a slash, so you can safely assume there will be some m/m action, although not right off. If you're uncomfortable with that, feel free to leave. Also, while it is true the story contains a fair amount of humor, it is still **not** for the faint of heart. There will be quite a lot of dark elements appearing, meaning; you should not expect fluff.

Generally: Angst, demons and all sorts of other nasties, slash, violence, abuse, swords and other similarly sharp objects, etc. Warnings will be included before every chapter.

Phew, I got that out, so now on to the fun part! XD

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**Welcome to hell**

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**Chapter 1**

Waking in Hell

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Harry awoke to the nagging feeling that he managed to seriously fuck up this time. He could recall the fight and Voldemort's demise, but before the feeling of triumph could take over, he remembered one other tiny problem; he was also quite dead.

He groaned as the events replayed in his mind. And if the disappointment he was experiencing was not enough, his head hurt so badly, he could hardly concentrate on anything else but the searing pain in his forehead. Why was it hurting anyway? Was death not supposed to be the end of it? '_This is so unfair'_ he grumbled to himself.

He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, taking a look around his surroundings. It appeared he was in some kind of a desert; there was nothing but sand as long as his eyes could see in every direction.

"Freaking great." he muttered in a barely audible tone. Was this what afterlife was supposed to look like? This barren place? He had been content in the knowledge he could join his parents and Sirius after departing from the living world, but it seemed that was not quite the case. How was he supposed to find them here? He stifled the waves of crushing sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him at the thought of never seeing them again. He could not afford to break down before he found out where he was exactly and why he was there.

"Potter?" came an all too familiar voice from his left. He had not noticed the figure half-buried by the sand before, mistaking him for an odd-shaped dune. As the man lifted himself from the ground, their eyes met.

"No!" Harry shouted. He pulled out his wand, as the other mirrored his movements, and they yelled at same time.

"_Stupefy!_"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Then they waited. And waited some more. Nothing happened.

"Wha…?" Harry tried again. "_Expelliarmus_!" still nothing.

The two stared at each other, perfectly dumbstruck. The expression on the face of _Voldemort_, of all people, sent Harry doubling over in a hysteric fit of giggles. He simply could not help it; he could not have stopped if his life depended on it – which thought set him off even more. Tears streamed down his face from the intensity of the episode, and he did not even know why he was laughing; because of sadness or the sheer irony of the situation.

Voldemort kept on staring at him and he was so still, Harry thought the shock must have petrified him. See, no magic was even needed to do the trick. Harry grinned to himself. This was the power-hungry Dark Lord after all, the very one that prided himself most in the fact that his magic was superior to anyone and everyone. He did his best not to think about his own powers however; that would have been too much to handle. Harry felt the aching emptiness inside him, where the most basic part of him used to reside. But it was gone now; there was not an ounce of magic left inside him either.

"What do you suppose this place is?" Harry asked Voldemort with faked casualness. The Dark Lord – ex, actually, Harry thought wryly – looked at him a little strangely, but answered eventually.

"Hell."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." Harry scoffed.

"This is the outer ring of Hell." he said, more empathetically. Harry blinked at him.

"You're serious." an edge of panic laced through his voice. "How would you know?" He tried and failed to mask his rising unease by feigning indignant disbelief. This was so bad.

"I had an army of Necromancers at my beck-and-call. How do you suppose I'd know?" So the Dark Lord had a sarcastic streak. Harry rolled his eyes. Perhaps it was strange, but he could not find it in himself to be scared of the man after the initial fright. It was true he had no powers, with which he would have no doubt gutted Harry by now, had it been at his disposal, but this was still the monster that murdered thousands of people, including, he reminded himself, his parents as well. But he undeniably felt a strange connection to him, now that they were literally going through Hell together, that he could not help.

Besides, what was the point anymore? He was already dead; it could not get _too_ much worse than this. Harry had a sense of unreality, disconnection, as if he were not able to muster up enough willpower to care about anything. He realized it must have been at least partially caused by shock, but the resigned indifference that lurked beneath his subconscious, numbing his mind would have been there nontheless.

"I understand why _you_ would go to Hell, but what about me? I'm not the evil, snake-faced, egoistic, eccentric and sadistic mass murderer; that's entirely your cup of tea." Voldemort glowered at him while he got to his feet.

"Who do you think killed me?" the ex-Lord asked while taking slow menacing steps toward him.

"That's beside the point!"

"Hypocrite! Do you think that just because of your misguided sense of justice, your act would become any less than a murder? You are no better than me!"

"Liar! I did it for the whole wizarding world! I saved them!" Voldemort snorted derisively while Harry seethed.

"Have you really convinced yourself with such an absurdity? Are you trying to make me believe your main motivating force was not revenge and self-preservation? "

As Voldemort got closer and closer, Harry's scar began to burn with such intensity, he fell to his knees while clutching his forehead as a desperate attempt to dull the pain. The man stopped in his tracks when he noticed the reason for the display and suddenly donned an expression of deep contemplation.

"Does it still burn when I experience displeasure?" He asked. Harry decided it had to be a rhetorical question, seeing as the answer was quite obvious in his opinion, but he answered anyway.

"Yeah." The ex-Lord's eyes were glinting with some emotion Harry was not sure he wanted to put a name to. He gulped as a satisfied smirk replaced the dark look he had been on the receiving end of; it was an unnerving sight to witness the grotesque face with something so close to a human expression. Voldemort continued moving toward him, and Harry's brain finally started shooting off danger signals into his numbed system. He jumped up from the ground and took a few steps back.

"Hey! Stop it, okay? I'm sure we can talk this out, hm? It's not as if the Prophecy is in effect anymore!" he protested when his words met deaf ears. "We did kill each other off, if you recall. I'd wager that is considered as a fulfillment with high scores, don't you think? Besides, it's not as if it would do us any good to jump the other's throat; we are kind of dead already." the last was more of a consolation and reassurance to himself, than a bargaining chip with Voldemort. The man smirked at him.

"Oh, my dear child, why would I ever harm you? You're my precious companion, how could I _bear_ to hurt you?" Events were progressing in such a bizarre direction; Harry even forgot to scoot further away as the distance between them decreased. His first coherent thought was to question whether he has gone irrecoverably insane. Perhaps he was under a Cruciatus for too long, he just could not remember it? That tone… cold sweat appeared on his forehead. He never again wanted to hear Voldemort talking sweetly; it was too gross for words.

"Stay away! Hey! I said st-" As the man got close enough to reach Harry, he turned to run, but it was too late. He was grabbed from behind; one of his arms were jerked backwards and bent into a painful angle, and long fingers fisted in his hair, pulling it back and exposing his neck. Harry snarled and thrashed to get away, but it was no use. Voldemort certainly possessed superior physical strength compared to his skinny, malnourished seventeen year old self. He struggled as best as he could, but he was only causing himself unnecessary pain, so he stopped abruptly after realizing it. He felt Voldemort's breath behind his ear as he bent closer to hiss at him.

"You are coming with me. It looks like our magic is not as dead as it appears." Harry gave a confused grunt. Voldemort apparently decided to indulge him. "If your scar continued to react to me, it means we still share a connection. And how would a telepathic bond be possible without magic?" Harry shook his head - as much as he was able, anyway. "Very good. It's not possible at all. It means we still have it, it's just locked away from our access." he concluded with a satisfied sigh. His explanation made sense to Harry, but it did not tell him why he was now pinned to the man's chest in a death grip.

"So?" Harry gritted out between clenched teeth.

"That, my dear Harry, means you are going to help me. I'm getting my powers back, and you will assist me. I need your… advice, as to when the magic is present at its strongest. Sadly, I cannot seem to feel you the same way as you can feel me, so I will have to keep you close." Harry growled at him. How dare the bastard do this to him after all the trouble he has already caused? They were already dead for Christ's sakes! Did he never have enough? What would he even accomplish by becoming powerful again? It was not like it would do them any good in death… right?

As Harry contemplated this, he heard a rustling sound coming from behind them. It reminded him of the noise a heavy object made while it was dragged on the ground. Curiosity made him tilt his head a little sideways; Voldemort was deep in thought and was staring ahead with a glassy look and as Harry glanced over his shoulder he spotted the source of the disturbance. The blood drained from his adrenalin-flushed cheeks, leaving him as white as a sheet.

"Voldemort?" No answer. "Voldemort!" he tried more insistently this time. His urgent tone must have caught his attention, because he focused his gaze on Harry.

"What?" He asked irritably.

"Behind you! I said behind you! Watch ou-"

A large fist connected with the man's head, and his grip on Harry loosened at once. Voldemort crumpled like a discarded puppet, hitting the ground with a dull _thud_. Harry moved as far away as he could as fast as he was able, whirling around to face his opponent as soon as he was out of its direct reach.

He had a vague recollection from one of his old textbooks about what this creature might be. It had to be a demon, a _diabolus_ if he were to stick to the traditional term. It was hideous, but more than that, it was happily chomping on Voldemort's shoulder as Harry watched with mounting horror. The _diabolus_ had sharp teeth like a shark's, and though it distantly resembled a human, it had a tail trailing behind it and ears like a house elf. It was nearly naked except for the small piece of cloth covering its genitals and leathery skin stretched all across its body. Two, as comical as that may sound, _fragile_-looking wings adorned its back and were folded close to its body neatly. If the bulge behind the cloth it wore was any indicator, it was probably a male, although one could never know with magical creatures. Harry learned that lesson well enough when he accidentally mistook a female dwarf for a male and almost got castrated for it.

Harry stood stock still for a few moments before he finally made up his mind. As much as he hated his old nemesis, he could not watch him end up as food supply for that oversized bat.

He looked around frantically, searching for anything he could use as a weapon. There was nothing there however; they were in the middle of a desert after all. Harry patted his pockets to check if he had something useful stashed in them, but he only came up with his wand. His now completely useless wand, he recalled with a start. He grabbed it as if it were a dagger, and against his better judgment, charged ahead toward the dining _diabolus_.

The creature did not even bother looking up, and Harry aimed the wand to sink it right into the left eye. It howled in pain as the wood pierced it with such a high-pitched voice, Harry had to cover his ears. The demon threw itself backward, all the while clutching the injured eye. It quickly pulled the offending object out with a stomach churning squish. As soon as the wand was out, it threw it away with enough force for it to snap in the air from the mere speed it flew with. Harry winced, but was already resigned to the fact that it would not have been of much use here in Hell anyway.

Harry stepped back as the _diabolus_ turned its beady black gaze on him. '_Now look where your damn heroics have gotten you!_' he berated himself angrily. '_But_ _it's not as if I could have just left him here!_' he shot back at the nagging voice. That would have been a sound argument if it had been anyone else but Voldemort that was attacked. Harry shrugged; the man now owed him a life debt and he would be sure to call it in later on. That is to say, if the ex-Lord managed to stay alive that long at all, not to mention Harry himself was in quite a fix. And now that he thought about it; why the heck were they even getting injured and were on the verge of dying when they were already supposed to be dead?

Before he could get any further with his musings, the creature launched itself after him, and he barely managed to dance away in time; sharp claws slashed the air where his head had been not a moment ago. As much as Harry hated to admit it, there was not much more he could have done at that point but run. So run he did.

The chase did not last nearly as long as he imagined; the demon was a lot quicker than it looked, and caught up with Harry in less than a minute. As the sharp claws sank into his shoulders, he screamed. It was pure agony. As soon as it had a good hold of him, they took off flying into the air. Harry screamed again; all his weight now hung on the pierced flesh and it felt like he would tear apart at any moment. As blackness slowly overtook his sight, Harry welcomed the blissful state of unconsciousness with open arms. Sinking further into the void, he had a moment to question any deities that might actually listen; why did he deserve this? No one answered.

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TBC

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**A/N**

Yes-yes, I started another story, but I just couldn't stand not to write it! The idea gripped me and kept nagging like the devil on my shoulder until I finally relented and began spilling it out. *nods nods*

I suppose updates will be a little further apart from now on, but I promise to work hard! XD

As always, reviews will be very much appreciated!


	2. Life in Hell

I do not own Harry Potter, or I would have lots and lots of money, which I don't.

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Hey everyone! This chapter is more like an introduction to the whys and hows of Hell and I hope it won't sound like preaching or anything. I tried to make the explanations sound as realistic in the conversations as possible, but I'm counting on you to tell me if it didn't work out. I just felt the need to clarify some things before diving into the plot so the story would make sense in the future. And thanks for **all** the reviews! I was pleasantly surprised at the amount of positive feedback I got, not that I'm complaining! ;)

**Dawn**: Don't worry; I will make notes on the chapters if they are edited here on fanfic, both in this story and in Gray. I also saw some really explicit scenes in some of the works here, but I still think I'll save those for the sites targeting specifically mature audiences. I rest easier that way. But I'll inform everyone if the chapters are different.

**spoonring**: Thanks! They are all corrected now! I may make some other mistakes too any time (my mother tongue is Hungarian) and I'm grateful for the help!

**Warning! **There are some mentions of religion in this chapter. It is not meant to be an insult to anyone, simply a necessary part of the story. I respect the beliefs of every single person, please do not think otherwise. Other than that; minimal foul language, mild gore

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**Welcome to Hell**

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**Chapter 2**

Life in Hell

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Pain. That was all Harry could comprehend. Something was burning him up from the inside out like liquid fire running through his veins. There was no release to look forward to and the hopelessness ate at him with vengeance.

He saw Sirius, a mocking smile so unlike him in life curling his lips. He appeared to be taunting him, laughing at what Harry had become. His mother and father appeared as well and towering above them all was Dumbledore, sneering at him with scorn.

"Forgive me." Harry breathed, his words barely audible. The phantom forms laughed at him cruelly, pointing at him with skeleton fingers peeking out from under their grey robes.

"Murderer!" The word echoed in his skull, the volume amplifying until Harry thought he could take no more. "Sinner!"

"No!" Harry shouted at them, clutching his head, his nails racking bloody gashes along his cheeks and neck. "I had no choice!"

"Then why did you let this happen to us? If you had been quicker, if you had been smarter, if you were not even born we would not have had to suffer! Look what you have done to us! And now you have become like him. You _are_ him!"

"No!" Unseen hands grabbed his wrists, wrenching them away from his blood streaked face. Harry fought them, scratching and tearing at the terrifying force restricting his movements with his teeth. "Let me go! Leave me alone! It was not my fault!"

But they did not disappear, however much Harry begged and pleaded with them. More and more long-lost faces appeared, their features all twisted with contempt. Harry's voice was raw from all the shouting and crying as he prayed for oblivion. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of suffering, a comforting cold breeze swept through his wrenched body. His heated skin cooled down, and the phantom figures flickered before his eyes. Harry never let his gaze leave their scalding stares and even as the vision grew fainter and fainter, the image of it stayed imprinted on his mind. As he gave in to the hovering darkness, he whispered the only thing he could.

"Forgive me."

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Harry blinked into the odd black eyes stupidly. The eyes blinked back. The face was so close, their foreheads nearly touched. A foul-smelling breath assaulted his senses, making Harry wrinkle his nose in disgust. Where was he? Oh yeah, he died. Then He woke up in Hell of all places, had a friendly chat with the man who sent him there in the first place and finally got attacked while he attempted to save said man's miserable hide. Harry groaned and shot up so suddenly, his head collided with the stranger's nose, making him yelp in pain. He slumped back onto the bed swearing and rubbing the soon to be lump he had undoubtedly just gained.

"Sorry." he muttered half heartedly. He peeked out from under his fingers, only to find himself face to face with the beast that had carried him off earlier. His heart sank and he pulled himself up stiffly, panic accelerating his pulse. Harry watched the creature rigidly, waiting for the blow to come. The _diabolus_ merely sat there though, studying Harry as much as he studied him.

"Er, hello?" he greeted uncertainly. It was probably a downright dumb thing to do, but it never hurt to be polite, Harry reasoned. It probably did not even understand him anyway, but he figured appearing meek and unthreatening could not do him any harm.

"Hi." Harry's mouth dropped open at the answer. So it could speak. He wished he had been as diligent in his studies as Hermione had been; it probably would have spared him from fumbling around while he tried to figure out the abilities of a _diabolus_. It would have certainly contributed to help keep him alive. He watched the demon guardedly as it sat up a little straighter and he would have sworn it looked… guilty?

"You 'k? Did na mean ta hurt ya, just got angry when ya attacked me, is all. I was tryin' to save ya, ya know, imagine how surprised I was when ya came at me! Ya had tha' stick an' next thing I know ya were all upset an' ran an' the stick was in me eye! Tha' hurt!" It was pretty hard to understand what it was saying, given all the sharp teeth making the produced sounds come out like weird hisses, the long tongue mangling the words further and it was spoken in an accent that could have put Hagrid to shame. It took Harry a few moments to process the sentence before he could answer.

"But you were eating my companion! Of course I attacked you!" the demon cocked its head to the side.

"Companion? Where?"

"The one you had your fangs in!"

"Tha'? But I was only tyin' to save ya! It looked like some beasty was eatin' ya!" Harry could not deny the fact that Voldemort's appearance could be easily mistaken for a B-movie horror costume, but would the real thing living in Hell not recognize he was not one of their ranks?

"We have to go get him! He could die!" Even Harry thought it was odd for him to be so worried about the most evil and vile creature born in centuries. He did not feel like overanalyzing his reaction though.

"Calm yerself would ya? Stay here an' Toby will go get 'im fer ya. Hold tight and lie back down."

"Toby?"

"Tha's me! Tobias Gibbs. Ma an' Pa will look after ya till I'm gone, ya just rest. Be back in jiffy." and it launched itself out the window at the far end of the room. Harry stared at the empty space it had occupied absolutely bewildered, wondering if he was still delirious from the injury he got.

The room he occupied was nearly completely bare, save for the bed, a small nightstand and a chair that stood beside him. Even so, it did not appear empty; the space was not much bigger than the cupboard the Dursleys appointed as his living quarters during his childhood. The walls were not painted, neither was there any flooring to talk about; the house was probably a simple mud-hut with straw piled on top as a roof that Harry noticed when he glanced up. There was a doorway leading out to the rest of the house and all the dubious privacy was provided by a tattered white cloth hanging before the passage. If Harry did not know better, he would have bet the building was an abandoned haunt for long dead spirits. Although the statement was sort of fitting, as he thought on it with a shrug.

Harry jumped when his musings were interrupted by a soft cough that was meant to get his attention. He whipped his head back to the door, straining his neck a little with the sudden movement. He rubbed the sore spot, massaging it with gentle fingers while hissing at the pain in both the muscle and his injured shoulders.

"Hey hon, Tobbs told me to look in at you before he took off. That boy! Ungrateful twerp I tell you, ordering his poor mama around like that!" The voice belonged to a face eerily resembling that of Toby's. The female _diabolus_ shuffled into the room and sat down beside Harry, patting his back sympathetically before noticing the hiss escaping his mouth at the pain.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry sweetie! I forgot you were injured! That Tobias, hurting a human like that! He should know better, really, it's not like you can heal as quickly as we do! Don't you worry dear; Bonny mama will give him what he's in for when he gets back! Oh, by the way, do you happen to know where the idiot went? He stormed away so fast, I didn't have the chance to ask." As unlikely as it sounded, the manner with which the demon spoke had an uncanny resemblance to that of Mrs. Weasley's.

"Er… I think he went to get my companion. He was also injured earlier. Toby mistook him for an attacker and… well, I hope he's okay." Harry finished lamely. He did not think it a good idea to tell the woman the gory details of her son chewing on Voldemort's hand. He did not want to upset her; who knew what she would do? She may even decide to turn Harry into an afternoon snack if he insulted her son too much.

"That Tobias! He's really in for it now! You heard that Hud? Our son went off and almost killed a human!" Harry heard an inarticulate grunt from somewhere behind the cloth. The demon, Bonny, clucked her tongue loudly with a frown marring her inhuman features. "But why would he do that? How could he mistake someone for a Hell creature? It's not like him."

Before Harry had the chance to explain exactly how it was possible, Toby soared through the window with a limp form hanging from his arms and saved him the effort. Bonny eyed the figure with interest.

"Oh, I see." She nodded at Harry. "Well, he will get all patched up after a few days here, but I can see where Tobbs thought he was a… what is he anyway?" Harry scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Dunno. He looks something like a giant Gnome, doesn't he?" Bonny hummed agreeably.

"Put him on the bed." Harry's heart leaped.

"Wait a sec!" As he scrambled and fought his way out from under the sheets to get away from the bed as fast as he could, the demon placed a hand on his chest to push him back down. "Let me up! Please miss, I'm okay."

"No you're not. Even here in Hell it takes a few hours to recover from such extensive wounds. You should stay put."

"But-"

"No buts!" She told him sternly. "You lie back down or I'll drug you to sleep. You have no business moving around yet."

This was very-very bad. It was one thing for Harry to reluctantly save the snake's life, but it became another matter entirely when he was expected to lie in the same damn bed with him. Goosebumps appeared all over his body just thinking about it. He nodded tightly to Bonny nonetheless, not wanting to upset her by refusing her goodwill and risking her ire. He scooted as close to the edge of the mattress as it was physically possible and he grimaced as Voldemort was placed down beside him and he saw the mangled shoulder. He did not blame his hosts of course. It would have been rude to request another bed for himself, seeing as the one he was currently in already appeared to be in Toby's use. The small hut did not strike him as the richest of homes.

"I wonder how he became like that. Was he a wizard?" Harry inclined his head.

"Yeah. He used some rituals to prolong his life and split his soul apart."

"Oh. I see. That will probably take quite some time to recover from, even here. I suppose all of the pieces were already sent here? Otherwise he wouldn't be here."She answered her own question. Harry thought it wise not to mention he was probably one of those pieces himself. He did not fully understand what had happened during the battle, but he was not optimistic enough to think everything would be over so easily with the connection he and Voldemort still shared and all. "They will get reabsorbed by him gradually, although I have never seen something like this before. He must have been a right bastard in life."

"Yeah, he was." The understatement of the century. "We're in Hell after all." Bonny snorted.

"That doesn't mean much. Almost everyone is sent to Hell after death. Only one in about a million gets to go to Heaven, and they are all stuck up snobs in my experience. They come down here once in a while to gloat, the nasty sods." Harry's stomach constricted at the words.

"So it's not only the evil ones who come here?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course not. What did you think afterlife was? Don't tell me you believed all that talk about heavenly punishment and all!"

"Ma' really hates tha shiny ones." Toby mock-whispered conspiratorially. "No tha I like 'em any betta' tho."

"So Heaven's like the Beverly Hills of Dead-land? Exactly what is this place then?"

"Belervy Hees? Wha's that?" Harry waved his hand, indicating it did not matter.

"Never mind. Can you tell me how this place works?" Toby shrugged and glanced at his mother. Harry turned to her expectantly.

"Afterlife is like a second chance you get. After you die, you end up in either Hell or, although unlikely, in Heaven. Anything that may have happened in your life slowly heals, giving you a new future to look forward to. For example, if you were raving mad before for some reason, you are given a healthy mind and it is your choice what to become."

"So what about my injuries? Can I die again if I'm not careful?" Bonny nodded.

"That is correct. But if you are killed here, there is no turning back. You will simply cease to exist. But don't let that bother you too much dear; it's not easy to die here. Unless someone intentionally hurts you enough, you will continue to live as long as you please."

"And where are all the people? I haven't seen anyone else besides you since I woke up, just sand. And you're not really human." Bonny frowned again.

"This is the outer ring, the cities are further in. I have no idea why you landed here; the newbies are usually sent straight to the capital."

"Capital? They are cities here?" Harry asked, barely able to mask his rising excitement. Things were not as bad as he originally thought. Voldemort had to have known; that was why he was so determined to get his magic back. Hell was not the end. Harry was a little fearful of the man's plans, but he did his best to push those thoughts aside. He would have to ask Voldemort about his intentions; did he want to get back to real life? Or was he planning to do something here in Hell? He wisely kept quiet about it in front of Toby and Mrs. Bonny. Perhaps after he got to know them better, he could ask about the sealed magic, but he did not want to risk it yet. Who knew how they would react? Was everyone else's magic blocked too? Was it only them? Harry decided to file that way for later contemplation.

"O' course there are! Afte' ya an' yer mate get betta I'll take ya there. Ya will luv it! Everyone goes all "ooh" an "aah" when they first see it!"

"Thanks Toby!" Harry grinned at the _diabolus_. Events were progressing rather positively. He had thought he would surely be killed by the creature after he stupidly attacked it. Harry supposed he could have spared himself a lot of trouble if he bothered to learn the attributions of a _diabolus_ in Magical races lessons that was a side-curriculum to History of magic, but Binns made it pretty hard for him to get interested in anything he taught.

"You should rest now darling. Toby will sleep on the couch, and if you need anything, tell me at once. I'll bring you some food soon and there is some water on the nightstand."

"Thank you Mrs. Bonny."

"None of that, honey! Call me Bonny. What's your name?"

"I'm Harry. And this is… this is Tom." Harry did not know if Voldemort's name meant anything here, but he was not going to risk it.

"All right, Harry and Tom it is. Try to sleep until I prepare dinner. I already cooled your fever, but it could come back any time, so no moving around!" Harry gulped. He remembered the all-consuming pain and burning even through his hazy recollection of his dreams; he would behave if it meant he could avoid that. Even if it was the freaking _Dark Lord_ sharing his bed. At least he was out cold and did not seem like he would be waking any time soon. A good chunk of his shoulder was missing and the healing process was not that fast. It was noticeable, but not when he kept staring at it constantly; much like a flower bud slowly opening its petals. If Harry looked away and glanced back later, he was able to see some change.

Toby grinned at him, revealing his lethal teeth once more. It took Harry all his precarious control not to flinch at the sight. The _diabolus_ did not seem to notice, as it waved and ducked out under the cloth smiling all the while. Bonny followed her son, humming a tune Harry did not recognize. When he was finally alone, he heaved a huge sigh. He had much to think about.

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TBC

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**A/N**

Next chapter will have some more action, but this really was necessary. Hope it was still somewhat readable.

Reviews will be, as always, deeply appreciated!


	3. Magic in Hell

Harry Potter is all J.K. Rowling's.

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Hey, I know I promised some action in his chapter and I really did want to get there! Honestly! But the story just ran along on its own, leaving the poor me scrambling after it in a frenzy… So I'm sorry, but that part will only come in the next chapy! ^^ Sorry again, but I hope you'll still enjoy! :P

Thanks for all the great reviews! They made my days! XD

To answer some questions:

Debauchi: He definitely will meet people he knew! :P I'm not giving away any more concrete info though! ;)

spoonring: Answering most of your questions would be spoilers, so suffice it to say they will all be addressed in the future chapters! *winks* And Star Wars? LoL, I haven't thought of that, but it really does seem a little similar in some aspects, doesn't it? XD

Drawn: Thanks and your welcome!

**Warning**: Nothing new this time, I think.

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**Welcome to Hell**

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**Chapter 3**

Magic in Hell

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Harry shot up from under the covers panting and sweating heavily. The nightmares he experienced before assaulted him with a vengeance, the familiar and dear faces all turning accusing and hateful eyes on him. It took him a few moments to orient himself and remember where he was; Hell. More precisely in Hell lying in the same bed as the bloody ex-Dark Lord. How weird was that?

He glanced sideways quickly and was relieved to see the man had not yet woken up. The shoulder that had been so badly injured looked as good as new – better, actually. The chunk that had ended up in Toby's stomach now seemed positively pink, instead of the sickly white skin that had been there before. It did appear rather odd; much like a huge injection scar in reverse. Harry was pretty sure this was not what the regular healing process that Bonny talked about was supposed to look like – should it not have been more even? Obviously the piece of flesh that grew back was almost human compared to the rest, so why wasn't his whole body healing? Maybe injuries sped up the process? He would have to ask.

As Harry was absorbed in his study of this peculiar occurrence, he almost failed to notice the nearly undetectable hitch of breath and the slight tensing of the muscles currently under his studious scrutiny. As it was though, he did, and he slowly lifted his gaze to Voldemort's face.

"Hi." He said blankly, lifting his hand in a rigid wave. Crimson eyes blinked at him in confusion and Harry could feel grudging pity welling up inside himself. The poor man would have probably been better off in his own undoubtedly horrifying nightmares than waking up beside _Harry Potter_. It was instantly squashed however, when Voldemort's expression morphed into pure fury.

"Hey, don't look at me like that!" Harry told him in an effort to calm the man down enough so he would not strangle him, as all signs were pointing to. "We were brought here by Toby after we were injured! You could have died you know!" It did not seem smart to mention that Toby was the original cause of the situation right then. It would have pretty much defeated the purpose.

Voldemort's hand shot out toward Harry and he grabbed the boy's wrist in a grip that should not have been humanly possible. Not that that really applied to the man, but still; his shoulder was missing only a few hours prior! Harry gave an uncharacteristic squeak at the sudden contact and jumped off the bed, landing in a graceless heap on the floor. It did not help much though; his wrist was still clutched just as tightly as before.

"We are leaving."

"Wait a minute! Where? Why?" Harry sputtered as Voldemort slowly sank his feet to the ground and stood up beside Harry. The man glanced at his captive with disdain, not bothering to grace his questions with an answer.

"Stop! I said STOP!" Harry wrenched his hand free at last after some struggle, glaring up at the older man. "I just saved your sorry ass from becoming a chew toy for Hell boy, so what the heck is your problem? Besides, you're still supposed to be recovering! Not that I'm overly concerned over your continued wellbeing, mind you, but I don't think it's the best idea to move around so fast after receiving a nasty injury!" Voldemort watched him with a frown for a heartbeat before his expression cleared.

"I do recall getting hit and…" he glanced at his shoulder with mild interest, inspecting the new pink patch there. He looked at Harry inquiringly.

"Yeah, I saved you. This demon – Toby - came all of a sudden and started attacking and I just… reacted, I guess." He finished with a mixture of exasperation and resignation. He had to mention Toby's part in the story sooner or later, might as well get over with it. "But he's not a bad guy!" Harry hurried to add as he practically saw the wheels turning in that serpentine brain. "He thought you were the one attacking me, – which is sort of true, now that I think about it – mistook you for some kind of a beast I suppose. He was trying to help, but I panicked and stabbed him, so he got angry and injured me too in the end. Then he brought me here and then went for you when I told him you were with me."

"'With you'? Yes, that is correct." Voldemort mused with a smirk. "You are going to assist me with regaining my magic after all."

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What do you plan to do after getting your magic back? Why do you think it's even possible?"

Voldemort did not say anything; he simply stared at Harry as if waiting for him to get up that moment so they could go.

Harry ignored him and continued to think. What if the man wanted to become a Dark Lord again? What would his purpose be? He was not entirely sure if it was only their magic that got blocked, or if it happened to every wizard who came here, but it was not likely they were the only ones whose magic got sealed. That meant there were no muggles to hunt, no muggleborns to discriminate against; no one to wage a war against. So what on earth did Voldemort _want_? Why was he so determined to gain power again? While it was true that if a power-hungry megalomaniac once gained such influence as he had while alive, they would probably not take kindly to it being ripped away, but Voldemort was far too focused, too… sure and calm for that to be the case. It was almost like he did not really want the power for the sake of it, but for some valid purpose. He did not seem to be the desperate and panicked murderer suddenly without his tools, like what one would expect from the psychopath he had always been, more like he was determined to reach a goal.

So what should Harry do? Voldemort was now nothing but a simple man. Granted; a scary, scaly, bald and noseless one, but a man nonetheless. If Harry wanted to, he could probably easily get away from him. But was it wise, Voldemort being Voldemort, to leave him to his machinations without any kind of supervision whatsoever? What if he planned to slaughter people again? What if he got his magic back and went on a killing spree?

And why should Harry take it on himself to prevent it anyway? He already lived that out once; he did not want to be forced into that position again. However while he despised the idea of Voldemort being his responsibility _again_, he knew he could not just let the man do whatever he pleased. Harry mentally rolled his eyes at himself '_Damn Griffindors_!'

Reaching his hard decision, Harry slumped forward a little dejectedly, still sitting on the floor and exhaled loudly.

"Fine. I'll help you." Voldemort sneered at him.

"Of course. I was not exactly giving you a choice, stupid brat."

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. Did he think he could not leave him behind? It would be all too easy; he would only have to call in Toby and the problem would be solved. The demon did not trust Voldemort one bit, if the calculating glances he shot at him while he was still asleep could be believed. Harry shrugged his healed shoulder dismissively. The man could delude himself into thinking he was Bugs Bunny for all he cared, as long as Harry knew differently. And right now, simply put, he was entirely powerless to stop Harry from doing much of anything.

"But you will have to wait. We can't just leave without a word. Bonny and Toby helped us; they saved our lives and offered their home. We at least owe them a thanks." Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"It was this Toby of yours that did this in the first place. We owe them nothing." Voldemort drawled. Harry glared at him.

"Yes we do. You would still be in the middle of nowhere coughing up, even sweating sand if it weren't for them. Or what? Is Mr. Godlike In His Powers ex-Dark Lord incapable of expressing gratitude? Fine! But you still _owe_ them."

The man snorted. He was about to open his mouth for a rebuke when they heard rustling from the other room and the next second a very tired-looking Toby stuck his head in beside the cloth separating the spaces.

"Hiya Harry! Thought I heard ya talkin'. An' Tom too! Ma says ya should na get up yet. Ya get tired easily afta getting' hurt like that."

"Hey Toby! Thanks for lending us your bed."

"No biggy, 's ok." the _diabolus_ grinned at Harry. His smile quickly faded though, morphing into a grimace. "Ma almost killed me ya know, fer hurting ya. She says ya should stay fer a few days before ya leave fer the cities. Just to make sure ya both be 'k."

"That's fine, Toby, you don't need to do all that. We are fine already, see?" Harry stabbed his thumb in Voldemort's direction to indicate his state. When the demon looked back at him skeptically, Harry glanced at the man. Voldemort looked… out of it. His eyes were glazed and half lidded and he kept swaying back and forth on his feet. It was as if he was dreaming with his eyes open. Harry furrowed his brows. He was fine a minute ago.

"Told ya he will be exhausted. He should lie back down." he said while scratching his chin with long talons. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Harry glanced back at Voldemort one more time before nodding reluctantly. He thanked Toby and led a very unresponsive Lord to the bed, directing him until he was safely under the blanket. He was already asleep halfway through. It was a weird situation for Harry; treating the Dark Lord like some toddler had never occurred to him in his wildest dreams. Life brings funny things – well, death in this case.

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OoOoO

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Harry decided to venture out of the small room and discover the house for himself. Voldemort would not go anywhere without him anyway, so he did not see much harm in leaving him alone for a while. He was also feeling a lot better.

As he stepped through the doorway pulling the tattered cloth to the side, he found himself in a small but cozy living room of sorts. There was a couch in the far corner, which he assumed Toby had inhabited as an alternate bed going by the tangle of sheets on it, and there were three armchairs and a coffee table arranged in a way that would suggest regular use for conversations. The design was much the same as the other room; just about nonexistent. The only questionable decorations were an array of weapons, ranging from swords to bows and an impressive collection of daggers, arranged on the far wall with no discernable pattern. Harry eyed them curiously for a while before Toby's voice startled him out of his state of enchantment.

"Ya like 'em? Can ya use any of 'em?" Harry shook his head jerkily. "Wanna learn? Toby can teach ya!"

Harry gaped at the _diabolus_. "Really?" he asked incredulously. The demon nodded enthusiastically. "They are so amazing! I have always been fascinated by swords and stuff ever since my relatives dragged me to an exhibition when I was around eight. I never did have a chance to learn though…"

The Dursleys have refused to pay for any such nonsense as martial arts lessons for Harry. Not that surprising, considering they did not even buy him clothes or even food, for that matter. It would have been nice if he had been able to protect himself from Dudley's constant attention but he suspected that to be the biggest reason for them to refuse his pleas; it would not do for him to hit back of course. Then came Hogwarts and a whole new world he had to adapt to, spiked by an evil Dark Lord chasing after him like a crazed bull, and he had not given the matter any thought since. He usually had no time for something as nonsensical as having fun or simply relaxing. That was a rare boon indeed.

"No worries! Toby will show ya! Ya can-"

"What are you two doing there? The food is ready." Bonny stepped into the small room from a narrow corridor leading to the other end of the house. She had her hands on her waist and could not seem to decide whether to glare at her son or keep smiling at Harry. She settled for scowling to herself and stomping back the way she came.

"Ma's still cross with me." Toby sighed. His flappy elf-ears hung at the side of his face weakly. The dejected air about him was nearly tangible. Harry patted his back stiffly and carefully in an effort to comfort him. It was an extremely awkward moment, but Toby smiled at him happily, showing off his pointy and very lethal teeth. "Come eat. We can try these later." he gestured at the weapons. Harry nodded and followed him to the kitchen, wondering when Voldemort would get to eat.

The meal was surprisingly delicious. Harry could not recognize most of the dishes, so at first he settled for the ones that looked to be the most harmless of the bunch; some round meatballs, a side dish that seemed to be a mixture of pasta and rice and plain water. They all tasted so good, he could hardly stop himself from stuffing it down in the most graceless manner. After that he braved the more foreign-looking ones and he was not disappointed; Bonny was a cooking genius. He was offered some liquid about halfway through in a metal pitcher and he eyed the brownish drink in his glass warily.

"It is Perlan Juice. Perlan is a fruit that grows here in the desert. They can be found below the ground." Bonny explained, seeing his attention on his glass. "Hud has a small plantation not far from here."

Hud, or Hudson, was Bonny's husband. He was huge compared to her and Toby, and looked very gruff. He did not speak much except for grunting inarticulately if his input on a subject was expected.

After they finished dinner, Bonny took a tray of food into the room he and Voldemort slept in so he could eat if he wanted to when he woke up. The whole family then retired to the same small living room Harry had been in before, with all the weapons on the wall. Everyone had their own respective place; Toby lay sprawled on the couch while his parents sat in two armchairs facing each other with the coffee table between them. Harry made his way to the only other free piece of furniture, hesitantly sinking down. Bonny smiled at him and began peeling some of the odd fruit she called Perlan from a bucket placed beside her.

Harry cleared his throat. He needed to ask some questions and this time was as good as any.

"Er, Bonny?"

"Yes dear?"

"I was wondering if you knew… Well, you see, me and Vo-Tom were wizards before we died and perhaps you could tell me, if everybody's magic gets sealed when they get here? Or is it only us?"

"Oh." She shook her head and then nodded sadly. "Everyone who comes to Hell looses their magic. Clearly, that does not affect normal humans too much, but it is really hard on those who were wizards. You see, life is also a type of magic in its self, so when you die it will disappear as well. Plain people don't notice it's even gone, but a lot of wizards lose their will to live without it. It's a sad fate."

"But I thought you said this was a place to heal, a second chance!"

"That's true, in most cases. However it only heals things that happened during life, not things that go wrong here. To an extent it does, like your injuries you got not long ago, but that does not mean you cannot die or go mad from loss here."

"So there is no magic at all?"

Bonny hesitated.

"That… There are those who have it; the ones that go to Heaven. They either gain powers or get to keep them if they were wizards previously. And although it is rare, there are some very powerful demons and hell-creatures that have their own magic as well. I don't know why that is though, and the 'magic' is a little different from how it was in life."

"So the people who get to go to Heaven have magic? Why? And really, how exactly is it decided who goes there and who comes to Hell?" Bonny bit her lip at the enthusiasm he was showing. There were so many questions swirling around in Harry's brain, he could hardly refrain from bouncing in his seat.

"Harry… I'm not sure I'm the best person for you to get information from. I… I also don't know." she said helplessly. Harry stared at the distressed _diabolus_ for a minute and sighed.

"So where can I find out more?"

"I'm not sure. The only ones who really understand are the ones from Heaven. Maybe you could investigate more in the city? But be careful; I don't think you should get in this too deeply. You'd be better off if you laid it to rest and acquiesced to the situation. It's dangerous to stick your nose where it does not belong. These are heavily guarded secrets dear; I doubt you'll find anyone willing to reveal anything, even if they knew something."

Harry nodded his head stiffly. He saw Bonny's sincerity; she was worried. Scared even. He would have to be cautios.

"Thanks Bonny."

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TBC

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**A/N:**

Next chapter really will have some of the promised action. *nudge nudge* Swords and Harry? *grins*

Please leave a review if you have the time, I will be grateful for any input!


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